


It never hurts to keep looking for sunshine

by Dervila, elf_on_the_shelf



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Banter, Crowley is Good With Kids (Good Omens), Domestic Fluff, First Kiss, First Time, Fluff, Found Family, Getting Together, Good Omens Reverse Bang, Happy Ending, Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), Ineffable Idiots (Good Omens), Mutual Pining, Nursery School AU, Parent Aziraphale (Good Omens), Slow Burn, Teacher Anathema, Teacher Crowley (Good Omens)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-22
Updated: 2021-03-12
Packaged: 2021-03-14 08:40:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,379
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28917729
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dervila/pseuds/Dervila, https://archiveofourown.org/users/elf_on_the_shelf/pseuds/elf_on_the_shelf
Summary: After Adam's parents die in a car crash, Aziraphale is forced to start taking care of him as more than just an uncle. Don't get him wrong, he loves the little devil, it's just that he is completely clueless and could rather use some help.In comes Crowley, Adam's new nursery school teacher with his amazing skills in dealing with kids. Could he be the answer to all of Aziraphale's prayers - Adam-related and otherwise?Well, it looks like he might just be that, judging by the weird things Aziraphale's heart seems to be doing whenever he sets eyes on the man. Now, if only the tall ginger returned his feelings...
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 80
Kudos: 95
Collections: Do It With Style Good Omens Reverse Bang, Good Omens Human AUs





	1. First Day

**Author's Note:**

> I want to thank my exceptional artist, [Dervila](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dervila) for the amazing piece of art. I squealed like a little girl when I saw the finished piece and I am beyond grateful to have been able to work together with her in the Reverse Bang! ❤️ Here's her [Tumblr](https://siskey.tumblr.com/) if you want to see even more amazing art.
> 
> I also want to thank my beta, [HolRose](https://archiveofourown.org/users/HolRose/pseuds/HolRose) for putting up with all of my monumental crap and serving as a huge inspiration to me in all my works. Go give her fics a read, she is an incredibly talented author.
> 
> The title is a quote from A.A. Milne because you can't have Aziraphale and little kids in a fic without at least alluding to Winnie the Pooh.

Aziraphale dreaded this day.

He had been giving it a lot of thought over the last month, each and every time arriving to a more catastrophic conclusion. It wasn’t as if any of them would come to pass but he had become so accustomed to the little boy over the last year that merely thinking about letting him out of his supervision for even an instant felt like it would be something monumental. And quite scary.

 _But it wasn’t like he could do anything about it, was it?_ He was already chastising himself for waiting a full year before sending the little darling to nursery school and he would be damned to hell and back again if he didn’t let him experience that before proper school started. Depriving him of such an experience seemed wrong and like something that would come and bite them both in the behind later on. Especially dear Adam.

The dear Adam in question was not being his most angelic self as he was forced to wake up far earlier than usual and after a string of “five more minutes” that turned into twenty-five more minutes he was unceremoniously pulled out of bed and sent on his merry way towards the bathroom where he washed his face and scrubbed his teeth under intense but loving scrutiny.

He of course pouted all the while, but four-year olds did tend to pout a lot when not getting their way.

And of course the pout was immediately wiped off his face as soon as he reached the small kitchen and saw what was awaiting him on the table.

‘Waffles!’ he exclaimed loudly and started jumping up and down.

If there was one thing Aziraphale thought he could never get accustomed to it was the bursts of youthful energy going off at any and all times of day.

He sighed and pulled the boy up, hands under his armpits to properly sit on the chair and sat down in the chair opposite him, sipping on his almost cold tea.

Adam still eyed the waffles for a bit, both of them knowing full well that they were a meal served only on special occasions. He understood that today was one of those. Aziraphale had tried his best to explain it to him and try to impress unto him how his schedule would change in a rather dramatic fashion. Adam had sat and listened with the same interest any four-year old could devote to serious conversations that took longer than five minutes, thinking of spaceships all the while. He did give a nod at the end and that seemed to do the trick for Aziraphale as he smiled at him and gave him a peppermint. Out of all the things that Aziraphale had in common with someone’s gran this wasn’t even the most far-fetched one.

Then Adam prodded them with his fork and let all other thoughts go away as he started munching on the waffles with a contented hum.

And then of course there was the issue with the raincoat that Adam was adamant about wearing despite the weather forecast announcing that it was going to be quite a pleasant and sunny day.

Aziraphale gave up with a sigh – he had long ago learned to pick his battles - and didn’t even lift an eyebrow when the boy darted upstairs and came back with an old plushie in tow. It was ragged and he’d have to sew one of its eyes a little tighter as it seemed to wobble a bit and it had been in the wash so many times that no one remembered its initial colour. It was also Adam’s most favourite possession and they were absolutely inseparable so Aziraphale knew better than to question the boy’s decision of taking it with him. There were plenty of other things that might make Adam act up on this particular day so he was damn sure he’d try to keep those to a minimum.

***

One of those things that ticked him off proved to happen as soon as they arrived at the nursery school and Adam laid eyes on all of the other kids and instantly hugged Aziraphale’s leg and started pulling at the fabric of his trousers, face buried deep in between his leg and the plush toy.

Aziraphale had had a fair inkling that this was how it would go. He had feared this outcome in fact. And even he had to admit that there were more children than he had thought there would be and that they were all sprinting away from their parents as soon as they spotted their friends and gathering around in small groups giggling and chatting animatedly.

He knew it. Keeping Adam home for the last year had come back to bite him in the arse with a vengeance. Keeping him all cooped up and not interacting with other kids his age, that had been a silly thing to do and now all of them already knew each other and Adam was just an outsider. He felt his heart break for the little darling, he really did, as he usually felt like an outsider himself. What with his frumpy clothes and complicated eating habits and with his strange opening hours and not wanting to part with half of the books in his collection. He had felt like an outsider throughout his school years, prefering to sit down with a book instead of going to any of the parties that his classmates were always going on about. But he shouldn’t subject Adam to that level of self-imposed isolation and yet somehow he still did and he cursed himself for it.

He was but a child. He should be out and about, making friends, playing with children his age instead of sitting around all day with only an old bookshop owner to keep him company and read him books that probably were not necessarily something you would or should read to a four year old. Not that he knew what those were. He was just winging it. And doing a rather poor job, it seemed.

‘My dear boy, we have talked about this,’ he said as he bent down to one knee and placed his hands on Adam’s shoulders in the most gentle way possible. ‘You need to go to nursery school before going to school proper. It will do you a world of good to meet other kids and make friends your own age. You can’t possibly want to just sit inside the bookshop all day. And I’m sure they are better company than me.’

Adam closed his eyes and shook his head clutching the toy to his chest in a very deliberate manner.

‘And I’m sure everyone will be very nice to you, yes?’

‘But I don’t wanna gooooo, paaaaaa!’

‘Hey there. Is there a problem?’

Aziraphale lifted his eyes only to see the most beautiful man he had ever had the pleasure to lay eyes on stand before him with a hand placed on a slightly cocked hip, the other one wrapped around a ball of some sort. Aziraphale had never been the sporty sort so other than the fact that it was ball shaped he had no frame of reference. Not to mention that the long and elegant fingers splayed on it were far more interesting than the ball itself.

‘I…it’s his first day,’ Aziraphale tried to explain while also not letting the thoughts about this man completely cloud whichever part of his brain was still functioning.

‘Is it? Is that right, you little devil?’

Adam shifted his teary eyes away from Aziraphale and looked the stranger up and down nodding in assent.

‘Well then, do I have some surprises for you,’ the stranger grinned and Aziraphale could swear there was a very sharp edge to that smile.

‘See, I mind things over here and I know just the kids you would like. And they you, of course.’

Then the stranger eyed him up and down and all that Aziraphale could feel was … lacking, as no other better word presented itself.

‘I’m Crowley. AJ Crowley. I guess I will be taking the little menace off your hands.’

Aziraphale spluttered.

‘He is not a menace! He is a perfectly…‘ he trailed off as he saw the man kneel down almost in slow motion so that they were at eye level before Aziraphale caught himself and cleared his throat, trying to get up and away from the splendid stranger. And then the man in question ruffled Adam’s curls and gave him a warm smile.

‘You’ll do just fine, little one, yes? You are built of strong stuff. And the other kids will love you as they are prone to do. Sure, some of them are a bit of a handful, but I’m sure you won’t be. Everyone is really nice to each other or else,’ he said as if he wanted to make sure that the “or else” bit was catalogued as himself. ‘And, if you don’t like the other kids, we have plants and crayons and building blocks and plenty of other stuff for you to play with. Whatever you want, honestly. So, I am sure you won’t miss your father for the day since you will get so busy with everything else.’

‘Uncle,’ Aziraphale felt the need to comment for whatever unknown reason.

He had never acted like anything other than Adam’s parent whenever he was questioned about it. He had the papers to prove it and everything.

The stranger tilted his head at him and lifted an eyebrow.

_Oh good lord, why was this man so good looking?_

‘I guess I’ll leave him in your more than capable hands then,’ Aziraphale tried to sound composed as he cleared his throat some more. It seemed like the intelligent thing to do. Well, it seemed like the _only_ thing he could do at the moment.

‘I guess you will. So, what’s your name? I offered you mine, it’s only fair that you offer up yours.’

‘Um…Aziraphale. Aziraphale Fell.’

‘Colour me intrigued, angel.’

‘What?’ Aziraphale couldn’t believe his ears.

‘That’s an angel name is it not?’

‘I mean…’

‘I did my bible studies in my youth, I know an angel name when I hear one. So what’s the little bugger called?’

‘Adam. And I would appreciate it if you didn’t refer to him as that, thank you very much.’

‘What would you like to be referred to as, eh, Adam?’ the man smirked and Adam lifted his teary eyes at him and giggled.

‘Bugger.’

‘Now look what you’ve done!’ Aziraphale burst out, all divine vengeance and retribution.

‘Oh, ease off it, angel. It will all be forgotten by the end of the day. Do you want a piggyback ride, little one?’

Adam fought his best not to chew his thumb off and nodded in approval.

‘See?’ the man chuckled. ‘No harm done.’

And then he picked up Adam as if he weighed nothing and balanced him up on a hip.

Aziraphale himself had a problem managing that lately since the lad had grown quite a bit during the last year that they had spent together.

There were far too many limbs now and honestly, he was getting a bit heavy for Aziraphale to lug around. He managed to move whole crates of books around the bookshop with ease but the books didn’t wriggle in his hands or kick back.

The stranger seemed perfectly at ease with the added weight gaining another giggle from the boy as he was effortlessly picked up with one hand.

Which in it of itself was a good thing considering how utterly devastated he had been only a couple of minutes prior and how much he didn’t want to be left alone and have Aziraphale go away.

So why was he feeling suddenly jealous of a perfect stranger for making his nephew – no, _son_ – feel better about the whole ordeal?

The boy looked perfectly at ease in the stranger’s arms and wasn’t that just a sight to behold?

And yet, he could not help but want to pull Adam out of his arms and hug him like there was no tomorrow.

‘Okay so see you come six pm, angel, yeah?’

‘I…yes. That.’

_Why did he have such a hard time forming words around this man?_

‘I’ll be here. I’ll pick you up, Adam, yes?’

‘I’m gonna stay with Cowley until then.’

‘Crowley, little menace. But you can call me AJ.’

‘Ayejay.’

‘There we are.’

 _Why was this man so skilled with kids?_ More skilled than Aziraphale had ever been, he realised as he heard Adam giggle some more.

 _Alright, job description and all_. But it seemed like a bit on the nose and he did not like being reminded of his shortcomings.

‘And who is your little friend,’ Crowley asked nodding at the ragged toy, since pointing at it would have been a rather difficult task, one armful of toddler and another one of ball.

‘His name is Dog,’ Adam announced proudly and hugged the plushie even tighter than before.

Crowley raised an eyebrow at Aziraphale with a slightly amused expression on his face.

‘Saves a lot of trouble, a name like that,’ Aziraphale provided, not very helpfully.

‘I guess it does. Very aptly, named, little hellion. Angel – six pm, yes?’

‘Yes, I’ll be here. Goodbye, Adam.’

‘Bye, pa!’

He almost didn’t want to go, thinking that maybe he could have the shop closed for the whole day and just sit around in case Adam needed him for anything. _What if he got himself hurt? Or what if the other kids were mean to him? Or…_

He looked at the retreating figure of the stranger…well, no, not stranger, but rather Adam’s future teacher, and sighed.

He just had to trust that Crowley was competent enough at his job to make sure that nothing catastrophic happened. Judging by how he had treated Adam so far he certainly looked the part. Not to mention how he looked in general terms. It was best for all not to think about that.

***

Aziraphale had tried his hardest not to fret. He had indeed. You could ask anyone, even those three customers that had visited the bookshop on that particular day. Of course, all of them would have told you that he was fretting something terrible, but that was neither here nor there. He actually fretted so much that he even managed to sell a first edition and that was saying some serious things about his frayed state of mind. He would probably berate himself for that later on, but now all he could think about was that six pm was fast approaching while also seeming aeons away.

He checked the huge grandfather clock every other minute or so, the constant ticking a perfect companion to him walking in circles, drilling a whole in the carpet and – if he kept at it like this – probably floor.

When five o’clock came around he couldn’t bear it anymore so he closed the shop one hour early – which was not a great tragedy when you stopped to think about it and he had to make up for that precious first edition somehow – and hurried towards the nursery, toying with his fingers and the hem of his waistcoat all the time.

He was well aware that the kids would be out at six and judging by the short distance from the bookshop to the school he still had a while to wait yet. He had chosen it for the benefit of being close by as he had no car and tried to avoid the tube at rush hour like the plague. Plus, walking was always good for you. Getting a little fresh air and all of that – if London air could ever be considered fresh. Or air.

He had also been amazed by the stellar reviews directed at, well, most of the staff but one staff member in particular. He now realised that that person was Crowley and couldn’t help but smile.

He most certainly wasn’t developing a crush on the man. No sir. It was just that his son’s teacher was extremely good with children. And attentive. And charming. And looked like temptation incarnate in those tight jeans that Aziraphale shouldn’t have paid so much attention to to begin with as he had looked at Crowley sauntering towards the entrance of the building, Adam in tow. So. Conclusion. No crush. Not that forty-year old men even had crushes. He wasn’t a stuttering teenager anymore, he was a respectable gentleman who just so happened to ogle at another gentleman’s behind that one time.

And despite his confusing thoughts about the other man, he found those a far better way to occupy his mind instead of worrying so much about how Adam was faring that he got himself worked up into a frenzy.

Apparently the last half hour of his ordeal went by a lot quicker than the rest of the day, mind occupied by handsome strangers and all and the next thing he knew the courtyard of the old Victorian building was brimming with children running about excitedly.

He waited some more but Adam was nowhere to be seen.

At some point he spotted Crowley and seeing as he was the only one of the members of staff that he was properly acquainted with, other than that lovely lady who was in charge of registration but did not seem to be around right now, he darted for him immediately and when he reached him – animatedly talking with some of the other parents and exchanging jokes – he was already a bit out of breath.

 _Good on you, Aziraphale, to make an utter spectacle of yourself_ , he mentally chastised himself.

Crowley just gave him a warm smile instead and placed a hand on a hip, tilting his head slightly.

‘Whoa there, angel. You’re not late or anything, no need to rush.’

Aziraphale tried his hardest not to fixate on the “angel” bit of that statement as it probably was just a jab at his odd name and nothing more, despite how warm and fuzzy it made him feel on the inside.

‘Adam…where’s Adam? Did something happen?’ he tried in between a couple of deep breaths.

Crowley placed a hand on his shoulder and gave it a reassuring little squeeze.

‘Nothing of the sort. We are professionals, even if we don’t look like it.’

‘Speak for yourself,’ a younger looking lady with long dark hair and round glasses passed them just as he said that and his response was pulling his tongue out at her, reminiscent more of the behaviour of their wards instead of the other teachers.

Aziraphale was still worried sick, though.

‘On the contrary,’ Crowley continued. ‘He made a couple of friends and they are absolutely inseparable now. I think that might prove a problem for you in organising playdates. And getting him to come home when the day ends. They have all asked me if they can spend the night here together.’

‘He has? Made friends that is…’

‘There’s no need to act so shocked. He’s an amazing kid. His parents did a stellar job with him.’

‘No parents. Just me, I’m afraid. And I know nothing about child care.’

‘Oh.’

Crowley was silent for a couple of moments and then gave Aziraphale’s shoulder another light squeeze.

‘Well then. You did an amazing job. One of the best kids in my class, really. And that’s after me teaching them for a year, too. You should be very proud.’

‘Oh, I am. He is a wonderful young boy. So imaginative and so kind. I rather think God has smiled upon me in regards to him.’

Both of them failed to comment that smile was maybe not exactly what God had done, if they were to consider the circumstances that have led to Adam being in his care to begin with.

And just as Crowley was preparing to add something else, Adam ran down the stairs and collided with Aziraphale’s legs nearly knocking him over.

‘Pa! I made friends!’

‘So I’ve heard, dear boy. And of course you did.’

‘This is Brian and Jer’my and Pippin.’

‘Pepper,’ a young girl with two pigtails tied up with ribbon corrected him and crossed her arms across her chest. ‘And I don’t like being introduced last.’

‘Charmed, I’m sure,’ Aziraphale smiled at the three unknown kids looking up at him expectantly. He could barely deal with one child. Four was rather pushing it.

There was a tall dark haired boy – that was to say tall for his age and rather lanky. Another boy that struggled with spectacles that were rather too big for his face and they continually kept sliding down his nose despite his attempts to set them right. And the girl in question that now started to tug at her piggytails with a displeased look on her face.

‘Oh, I swear to God, that woman!’ Aziraphale heard an irritated huff behind him and turned to see a woman with short hair and the most colourful paisley patterned shirt Aziraphale had seen on anyone nearly snarl as she headed their way and stopped to kneel down by the little girl, untangling her braids and quickly disposing of the pink ribbons in the nearest bin.

‘Her father’s wife,’ she said by means of explaining as she noticed Aziraphale’s confused expression. ‘That b…mmmm…not very nice lady,’ she corrected herself looking at the kids, ‘always trying to doll my little girl up whenever she spends the night over at theirs.’

Crowley intervened by this point, taking care of all the proper introductions.

‘Sally, this is Aziraphale. Aziraphale, Sally, Pep’s mum.’

‘Nice to meet you. Good to see I’m not the only one who comes to pick my kid up alone. Oh…sorry, I didn’t mean to presume…’

‘No harm done, I’m sure. And it would appear that our young ones have become fast friends.’

‘Oh, is that so? Lovely,’ she smiled at him and knelt down once more tying Pepper’s hair in a nondescript bun.

‘I thought it rather weird, knowing you, Sal, but I didn’t want to presume,’ Crowley said while he scanned the yard presumably for the other two children’s parents as quite a lot of the others were on their way already.

‘Always presume. You see ribbons in her hair, they got to go, instantly.’

‘Aye aye, got it. Loud and clear. Remind me to return that tupperware.’

‘Only when I get to cook you another homemade meal. You’re too thin for your own good.’

‘Pff, you act like I don't know how to cook. You know I had to learn how to do that.’

‘Doesn’t look like it.’

Aziraphale was observing the whole exchange with a confused look on his face. _Was this how the other parents interacted with Crowley? Was this the norm? And more importantly, could he also do this?_

In the meantime two other couples came to gather their kids. The mother of the tall boy made a fuss about how he had made a huge mess of his clothes yet again and the other boy’s parents were wearing the same type of oversized glasses that he did. The glasses were probably genetic.

Pepper’s mum chatted with Crowley a little while more and then leaned in and kissed him on the cheek before saying her goodbyes and Aziraphale just gaped like a fish.

‘Bye, AJ. Take care. And thank you,’ she squeezed one of his hands and then turned to Aziraphale. ‘It’s been a pleasure meeting you.’

‘Likewise, I’m sure,’ he offered politely while his mind was still reeling about that kind of behaviour towards a teacher. _And again, was that permissible behaviour?_

And then he was left alone with Adam and Crowley who lowered his eyes to land on the boy and smirked at him.

‘Had fun today, little devil?’

‘Mhm,’ Adam managed and nodded vehemently, clutching at Dog all the while.

‘And do you want to come back tomorrow?’

‘Mhm.’

‘See? There you have it. Told you there’s nothing to worry about.’

Aziraphale didn’t know for who’s sake that was intended but was relieved to hear it anyway.

Adam grabbed one of his hands and started waving it about in a sign that clearly meant: “I am bored now, let’s do something else”.

‘I guess I’d better go then.’

‘I suppose you should.’

‘But thank you, Crowley. For everything.’

‘Just doing my job. All part of the brilliant service provided by our spectacular education system.’

There was sarcasm there but the amused expression on Crowley’s face masked it well.

‘Well then. See you tomorrow.’

‘Counting the minutes, angel,’ Crowley said and gave him a wink.

Okay. _Scratch all previous thoughts_. This was not only just a crush. This was the biggest crush that he had ever had in his life. 

Aziraphale picked Adam up and turned on his heels before the way his face had turned beet-red would become obvious to the other man.

He heard Crowley chuckle behind him but he didn’t turn around to inspect the situation.

He all but made a run for it.

  
  



	2. Tea and blueberry muffins

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We get to hear Crowley's thoughts about the matter at hand. That matter being Aziraphale and what soon develops into a rather weird rapport to be having with one of his students' parent.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks go to my amazing artist, [Dervila](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dervila) for this gorgeous piece and for being an absolute sweetheart!  
> And to my wonderful beta, [HolRose](https://archiveofourown.org/users/HolRose/pseuds/HolRose) for all of her encouragement and support!

Were you to ask anyone, Crowley was not the type of person who made friends easily. Or had a lot of them, for that matter.

People would probably tell you that that was because of the way he looked. Or dressed. Or smiled at you for slightly too long and with slightly too much tooth. That was always disconcerting. But that was just people being judgmental by and large.

In actuality Crowley didn’t have a great lot of friends because he just couldn’t be bothered.

Of course, there was Anathema but she was first and foremost a coworker – or at least that is what he kept telling her, despite her showing up unannounced at his house at least twice a week to murder a couple of bottles of wine. She always gave him a curt smile, patted his shoulder and then took a seat on his couch and stayed there for a couple of hours. Annoying was what it was.

Then there were the rest of the parents, especially the mums that sort of saw him as a weird combination between eye candy and a charity case, always bugging him about not eating enough. That was an aesthetic choice. Plus, he wasn’t that big of a fan of that habit in particular. Give him a bag of salt and vinegar crisps instead of a three-course meal any day and he’d be content. In the beginning, when he first started working at the nursery eight years ago, there had been an influx of mums who thought they should mum extra hard and it had been near impossible for him to properly be able to close the door of his fridge for a full month. The old ladies nextdoor had enjoyed many a casserole before Crowley cut out the supply, using a powerful combination of driving as fast as he could as soon as the day was over combined with always seeming to be on the phone after hours with a dash of acting like an utter tit. That had seemed to relay the message that he was a fully functioning adult who could feed himself, _thank you very much_. Unfortunately, years later, Pepper’s mum came along and she was not that easily swayed. Or at _all_ , for that matter. Crowley shuddered to think how Pepper would turn out when she grew up.

Point was… point was that Crowley didn’t have a lot of friends. Not if he could help it. And never of his own volition. _So how was it that he actively sought this new parent out?_

He made sure to arrive more than half an hour early in the mornings if only to get a couple of extra minutes of conversation with the honest-to-god angel who was new to the nursery. Even if waking up in the morning was a bitch, always. It seemed like the angel picked up on that and he also arrived as early as possible before all of the general hubbub started and they had a good twenty minutes before all chaos broke loose. At some point Aziraphale started bringing a thermos filled with some kind of tea or other that he politely shared with Crowley. Crowley had no actual idea what any of the teas were since he had never been much of a tea person himself, more like a five-espressos-a-day type of person, but he couldn’t deny this man anything it would seem. He had come to that particular realisation after the first time that he politely declined a mug and saw Aziraphale’s face fall just a little, so of course he took the mug and downed it in one large gulp, burning his tongue in the process. _Now why did he go and do that?_ He’d figure it out at a later date. All he knew was that now he was on a one-cup-a-day diet and not stopping anytime soon if the angel kept bringing it around.

He also spent far more time than before wishing the toddlers goodbye at the end of the day if only to bask under that angelic smile directed their way when he was particularly soft-going on any of the kids. He nearly preened under the attention and he realised that he would not stop doing it anytime soon if Aziraphale continued to look at him like that, despite that making his reputation as a fearsome and unapproachable bloke wane, if just a little bit, and had some of the new mums getting ideas. _Still._ Anything for that smile. He would also shelve this particular bit of information for later inquiry.

The thing was they had fallen into an easy pattern over the last two months, drinking tea together in the morning while sitting on one of the benches in the courtyard waiting for the schoolday to begin. Or at least Aziraphale was sitting. What Crowley was doing, while perched on either the backrest or the armrest could be described as anything but. Spending more than half an hour in the afternoon, too, talking about whatever while they waited for the yard to gradually empty and the background noise to turn from excited shrieks and giggles to the more common London background noise which as swears, honks and the like.

He had at one point accompanied Aziraphale and Adam on their way home since it was fairly on his route and since… well, since he just felt like it, not that it was anyone’s business. And he said “fairly” so what if it was a half an hour detour? _That’s what “fairly” meant, right?_

Ever since he had met the light-coloured angel he had started feeling things that he hadn’t felt for years. _Or maybe ever, come to think of it._

He needed this man to approve of his actions. _Well_ , of him in general. He needed him to smile at him with that dratted smile that made his whole face light up and his eyes shine. He swore that he had never before seen anyone that could smile like this. He made bleak days seem bright and bright days seem radiant.

One morning Aziraphale had brought over a couple of blueberry muffins that he claimed to have baked the previous evening. Crowley poked at one of the blueberries on his muffin for a bit before hearing Aziraphale sigh in contentment as he bit into his. And then he just stayed, glued to the spot, muffin in hand and an expression that probably would be a very strong “dead fish” contender for the next ten minutes. That was one of the things he had learned about Aziraphale that day. If he were to eat something, he took his blessed time. Another thing he learned was that they should probably never go to a restaurant together. Not that they would. _Would they?_ He thought he’d like that despite being completely unprofessional.

Of course it didn’t much help that all of the other people around him tried to get into his personal business. Such as Tracy, a bunch of times – but she was more in the habit of bugging Aziraphale because she knew that if she really upset him he’d stop bringing her that glorious morning coffee that he tended to bring when he was feeling particularly charitable.

And then, of course, there was Anathema. _Curses be upon her household._

Anathema apparently had taken it upon herself to play matchmaker for him the last couple of years. Ever since she started working alongside him. He still didn’t particularly get why she’d want to end up working as a teacher, what with her extensive family fortune and all but she seemed to love each and every minute of it.

She liked the kids well enough and was rather good with them, if he said so himself. She didn’t seem to mind the horrible coffee in the breakroom or the fact that sometimes they had to stay after hours if a parent was running late. Hell, she didn’t even mind getting glue in her hair. Crowley definitely minded that and he imagined it was far harder to get it out of her long locks than it was for him.

She had tried in the span of the last two years to set him up on about thirty dates, ten of which he actually went on because he could find no way to actually wiggle out of it. Some were horrible and some were… fine. But that’s all it was at best. He paid for dinner and they shook hands at the end of the evening and they went their separate ways.

It’s not like he needed to find love at his forty years of age. He didn’t think he was at the right point in his life for that. He’d had that with Harry back in his youth or at least that’s what he had thought at the time. He had a kid for crying out loud. And he felt that was far more important than any new romantic entanglements.

But Anathema was obviously of a different opinion and she didn’t seem to be able to let the matter drop.

So, after only the second week of staying behind after hours and warming up to the fascinating new parent, Anathema was already convinced that this had to be it and that soon enough there’d be wedding bells ringing.

_Which was… it was preposterous was what it was._

Of course, this new bloke was… _interesting_ . Starting with his very particular sartorial choices and ending with his name. _Aziraphale._ He had jokingly called him angel that first day if only to get his mind off things as it was plain for everyone to see what a state the man was in at the thought of being parted from his nephew. _His son_ , Aziraphale had later amended the matter and he had the adoption papers to prove it. _Which was rather odd_ , Crowley thought but didn’t let his mind linger on it. In between then and now though he found himself calling Aziraphale _THAT_ on so many an occasion that me might as well give up on calling him by his name completely. The second day of school he had been mortified when a cheery “angel” escaped his lips after he had spent the previous night mentally kicking himself for it and cringing at the impropriety of it all.

But then Aziraphale smiled widely at him and didn’t seem bothered in the slightest. If Crowley was the type of person to believe in such things he could swear that Aziraphale’s cheeks were dusted in a light pink after hearing that particular nickname. _Nah_ , it was probably just the chill in the air. It was threatening to rain that day despite how bright and sunny yesterday had been. Crowley loved London for a great deal many reasons but the fickle weather was certainly not one of them.

And so the name stuck.

Of course it was Anathema, horrible little witch that she was, that had to point it out while wiggling her eyebrows at him suggestively.

‘Angel, eh?’

‘He has an angel’s name.’

‘Mhm.’

He swore he could hear the smile on her face from her tone alone. He made no attempt to turn around and see if he was right in his assumptions as he continued putting the building blocks back in their boxes and making sure that all the plushies were in their rightful place.

‘Don’t you have brushes to wash or something,’ he snapped at her, slightly annoyed without particularly knowing why. She always did this with anyone that even vaguely breathed in Crowley’s vicinity and he had never taken issue before.

‘Nah, we did finger painting today. Saves a lot of time on cleaning.’

‘You’re such a lazy bastard.’

‘Time efficient.’

On that particular day she dropped the matter at that but he had been a fool to think she’d let it go completely.

It was only a few days later as they were grabbing a coffee after work that she brought it up again.

Coffee after 6 pm was not the wisest of moves on either of their parts but it was what they invariably did every Monday as they gossiped about what had happened during the weekend. It had become a habit of theirs because when Crowley didn’t live on liquor he survived almost entirely on black coffee and because the atrocity that Anathema usually drank could hardly be described as coffee to begin with.

Of course her stories were far more entertaining than his were, seeing as most weekends he’d have the kid over and end up playing video games or building pillow forts or going to the movies. And despite Anathema loving the small menace dearly, there’s only so much one can listen to about an eleven-year-old’s schedule. Her stories involved at least one technological mishap per day and Crowley was vastly entertained by the mystery that was lizard-boy’s technical inaptness. He felt that at some point it had ceased to be a string of pure coincidences and the Universe had started being cruel on purpose.

‘So what do you and the “angel” talk about? Friday you stayed overtime for almost an hour.’

‘And how do you know that?’

‘Oh, I had to stay and do clean-up. Brushes to be washed. Jars. You know how it is.’

‘Riiiiight. You were suddenly hit by the desire to do your job properly, just like that?’

‘Might have. Also, think of it as personal interest in your life and general wellbeing.’

‘Hmm. And he has a name, you know?’

‘Oh, I know. Do _you_?’

‘You’re horrible.’

Anathema grinned at him but stopped for now. She knew him well enough to understand that the slow and steady approach would yield far better results.

So it had already developed into a pattern when the next week she cornered him yet again. They were eating lunch in the breakroom. Or, more accurately put, Anathema was eating lunch and Crowley was toying with his phone, occasionally popping a crisp into his mouth.

‘Ana, just leave it be. He is just a lonely bloke put in an impossible situation and I think he’s a little bit in over his head, that is all.’

‘So you decided to help him out of the goodness of your cold dead heart? Also. Stop calling me Ana.’

‘Something like that. And you get the “Ana” treatment when you are being impossible. It is the law of the land.’

‘Mhm. And not because you think he is a total snack?’ she grinned at him entirely too-knowingly and let his “Ana” comment drop. _You had to pick your victories_.

‘What the hell are you on about? I am just being the right amount of helpful.’

‘Funny how you never spend so much time with Pep’s mum or any of the other ones.’

‘Are you kidding me? It’s enough that she feels the need to feed me. Can you imagine getting even friendlier with her? And half the mums here think I’m just a pet project. Spare me with that bollocks.’

‘Well, you should actually consider healthy food every once in a while,’ Anathema poked at her salad while Crowley tipped his head backwards and emptied the remains of his bag of crisps into his mouth.

‘Whaddya mean? I cook plenty of healthy food.’

‘Yeah, once a week doesn’t count.’

‘And what do you know? You teach four-year olds to finger paint for a living. Not exactly an authority, now are you?’

‘And you playing with them with building blocks is?’

‘Sod off.’

But come the two month mark even Crowley had to admit that there was something there. Something more than him being civil to a new parent who was out of his depth.

First of all, he never did that. _Ever._

But somehow with Aziraphale he never wanted to stop.

He was extraordinarily smart. And well read. _Came with owning a bookshop_ , Crowley mused. Well, he enjoyed their literary discussions even if their opinions about Shakespeare had led to many a debate.

_Maybe that’s what it was, right?_

A person his own age that he could talk with since he spent most of his days entertaining toddlers.

But if that was all there was then why did his eyes drift towards that damn perfect cupid bow every time he pouted? Why did he find him scrunching his nose so utterly delectable? And, more than anything why did he smile like a stupid person whenever he saw the angel’s – _Aziraphale’s_ – eyes light up when he smiled?

He should by all accounts be poking fun at Aziraphale’s completely out of fashion attire. He shouldn’t find it endearing and he most definitely shouldn’t think about how well it hugged his figure, snug in all the right places.

He shouldn’t be so eager to wake up earlier and stay at school later each day if only to spend more time with the ang… _Aziraphale_.

He shouldn’t go out of his way to make him smile, buying him pastries and the like.

And yet he did.

He did all of that.

 _Curse Anathema and the horse she rode in on_ , he thought to himself one particular morning when Aziraphale started guffawing after a not particularly funny joke that he had made and then placed his palm on Crowley’s mid back to guide him inside the school.

Crowley nearly jumped out of his body at the contact while, at the same time, wanting to press his back into that impossibly warm hand.

Maybe turn around and kiss that serene smile off Aziraphale’s lips.

_What? Where was all this coming from?_

Such thoughts that he had not harboured for ages. And about a parent of one of his students no less…

His face surely matched his hair by now, of that he was absolutely certain.

 _Oh no nonono. This was extraordinarily bad…._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am very very sorry this took forever to post - I was working on three art-pieces for the bang and another three long WIPs in parallel. But now that I finished posting some of those I promise the next chapter will pop up much sooner.  
> 


	3. Father of the Year Award

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aziraphale is brave enough to plan on asking Crowley out on a date. Whatever could possibly go wrong?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you ever so much, [Dervila](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dervila), for the beautiful art!
> 
> [HolRose](https://archiveofourown.org/users/HolRose/pseuds/HolRose) you are a petal, as always!

Aziraphale had to admit that week by week he became more and more at ease with dropping Adam off at the nursery. His doom and gloom scenarios seemed unfounded and the darling boy seemed happy enough.

There had even been a couple of playdates organised by Pepper’s mother and Wensleydale’s parents. He knew that poor child had a first name but he just had a hard time ever remembering it.

He dreaded the day that he would be the one to organise one and he hoped he could postpone it as much as possible. Maybe till spring. Then they could all have a nice day outdoors. Maybe the park. Feed the ducks or something like that. Or the Zoo. He could take them all there – Aziraphale who just recently became a father thought. He was of course very very wrong in his suppositions of managing four four year-olds for an entire day in a place with so many animals but that was something that he would have to discover for himself later. He’d just about do anything if that meant that he kept the children away from the bookshop and the books.

He was ecstatic that Adam had made friends, he was – do not get him wrong – but… the books… he simply could not have more than one child in the bookshop at the same time. Heavens, he tensed up when any customer came in with a child in tow. To be fair, he tensed up when any customer came in full stop, but he regarded every small child that crossed his threshold as a personal arch nemesis.

Not Adam, of course. Adam was always very careful with the books. Unnaturally so for a four-year-old. But then again, a lot of things were.

He cared far more about dinosaurs in cowboy hats flying around in spaceships then he did about reinterpretations of Beowulf but at least he extended Aziraphale the decency of making machine gun sounds only in his head instead of out loud when his adoptive father went on one of his rants. And the clash of figurines that in a completely ironic twist of events were made of nothing other than their ancestors’ remains was also played at minimum volume. There was just the occasional fort made out of books and even then all was well because there was a rather easy way to dissuade a four-year-old from using your first edition of Ulysses as a glorified shield against the more aggressive type of space dinosaur and that was simply place it on a higher shelf. (Even if there were times – before the old English professor gene that wasn’t even a scientific thing but at the same time made up for 90% of Aziraphale’s DNA kicked in – when he pondered if the book didn’t deserve this particular fate. Adam might actually be onto something there…)

Adam knew that everything on the bottom two shelves was fair use and if any Dan Brown or Jeffery Archer got damaged in the process, then Aziraphale guessed that it just couldn’t be helped and pinned it as God expressing Her literary criticisms in the only way She knew how since one to five stars reviews were not exactly Her signature move. That seemed more like something the other side would come up with.

No, Adam was not his problem right now. Far from it. Adam was perfect. He had made friends and he had really managed to get out of his shell. He smiled far more and his eyes lit up when he recounted how his days at the nursery had been.

No, his problem was only vaguely Adam-adjacent and presented itself in a rather tall and lanky form who opted for clothes three sizes too small.

_ Crowley. _

He had been nothing if not splendid to him since the beginning of the school year, an advice on bedtime reads here, a recipe for healthy snacks there, all the while entertaining Aziraphale with funny anecdotes and novel – even if completely incorrect – opinions about the Bard.

For the first month he just saw this as Crowley being extra sweet to a new (and frankly disastrous) parent but as the second month drew to an end he wasn’t all that sure anymore.

There seemed to be absolutely no need for Crowley to spend so much time with him outside his normal schedule. And yet…

So maybe there was something there.

Aziraphale thought that he got it right this time.

He rarely did.

_Well_. People rarely seemed to want to flirt with him, so pardon him for not noticing if they did. But this time he was almost certain that this was what it was.

And well… Crowley seemed of a similar disposition as he was… so to speak.

He had casually mentioned some bloke called “Harry” a couple of times now, and he was led to believe that that was Crowley’s ex.

And the way he was acting could be described as flirting, could it not?

Judging by the winks he got from that lovely young American teacher whenever she saw the two of them together that was his impression, at least.

He’d even heard some of the mums comment on it one afternoon as they were waiting for their children not even six feet away from him.

The fact that his hair was naturally almost white did not necessarily mean that his hearing was anything other than perfect.  _ Just tickety-boo, thank you very much _ . They apparently didn’t see it that way as they discussed him and Crowley quite openly and quite loudly. He could have got up and told them a piece of his mind.

But what he did instead was keep his head down and continue to act like the book he was currently reading was the most interesting thing on this blessed Earth. When in actuality whatever went through Crowley’s mind was the only thing that kept his interest at the moment.

And, according to the grapevine at least, he was what went through Crowley’s mind, if the mums were to be believed.

Apparently Crowley had avoided all of the other parents like the plague and the only one he actively chose to spend time with was Aziraphale.

_ Well… that was nice to hear. _

If some of the mums were to be believed they had never seen Crowley smiling to anyone old enough to have an ID other than him.

Not to mention that Crowley coming earlier than he was supposed to was altogether unheard of. Apparently, he regarded his morning beauty sleep as sacrosanct.

Initially Aziraphale had thought that to be related to the early morning prep they were bound to be doing but the fact that those twenty minutes before class were spent bantering with him in the yard and not inside the school coupled with the fact that Crowley thought that lesson plans were something that happened to other people made Aziraphale quickly pay attention to the schoolyard gossip more attentively and even start to believe some of it.

Of course, it being gossip, not all the remarks were all that flattering, especially in what concerned himself. It would seem that despite him having a small fanclub of mums who thought the two of them were cute together – Aziraphale had wanted to bury himself under a rock the first time he overheard that – not everyone shared the sentiment.

It just so seemed that Crowley was this ever so elusive white whale and the nursery schoolyard was filled with Ahabs.

A particularly crude joke about not having the proper tools and harpoons came to mind and that only went to show that he was spending far too much time with Crowley because he could have never even thought about something like that two months ago without blushing like a Victorian damsel.

So if he were to heed all of the gossip – and he very much wanted to, by this point – then maybe he should do something. Proposition the man, as it were.  _ Oh lord _ , that sounded properly salacious. Ask him out on a date was by far the more appropriate term.

He would in fact do just that. Thursday seemed as good of a day as any. No, even more than. Since if he got a positive answer it gave him enough time to plan for a proper dinner on Saturday. Have enough time to make a reservation and find a babysitter for Adam for the evening and probably fret for two days incessantly. But no matter. He said he’d do it and he would.

The morning drop-off had been a rather rushed affair as there was no trace of Crowley anywhere and it was the nice American lady who took Adam off his hands with a sly smile and a wink and, to his general frustration, a flier about a school get-together that needed parents in attendance.  _ Just superb. _

Again, Adam was an extraordinarily sweet boy and he frankly couldn’t imagine his life without him. But spending a whole day with a lot of other people’s children… he was just appalled at the thought.

And only just a little bit miffed that Crowley wasn’t there that morning. But no matter. He had decided to ask him out in the afternoon anyway.

This way he would have enough time to pick something nice for Crowley. He could always go for flowers.

And pick up a nice dress-suit too. He had several of those at the back of his wardrobe, safely tucked away for special occasions. He sincerely hoped none of them smelled too potently of moth balls. He was aware that he already looked like someone’s grandfather, so smelling like one too was not very high on his agenda.

He settled for a dove grey three-piece-suit and fished out one of the “good” bowties, a navy blue one that he had been told complimented his eyes.

_ Now… onto flowers it was. _

He’d go with a white rose because classics were classics for a reason and Aziraphale was nothing if not a sap and a bit of a stickler (with an added bit of Victorian lady thrown in for good measure).

_ It was alright. It was all good. He could do it. _

He was a grown man. He should act the part.

_ And what if he had a teenage-like infatuation on this wonderful person? _ If what he was given to understand was correct then he just needed to approach this head on and hold his ground.

He entered the nursery schoolyard with an expression that he had tried coaxing time and again on his way over into something that could not be defined as “beaming like a ray of sunlight”. It did not prove very effective as he laid eyes on Crowley and his eyes instantly lit up.

So he was a bit…  _ upset? _ when Crowley waved at him but made no gesture of coming his way. In fact he then ignored him completely and headed towards the street where a black limo had just pulled to the kerb.

Aziraphale cast a quick look around and noticed that Adam was still talking vehemently with the other three kids in the now inseparable little gang and pointing Dog as if he was a sword at Pepper who swatted at him and then they all started running laps around a frankly exhausted-looking Sally.

But seeing as Adam could entertain himself if only for a little longer, Aziraphale clutched the rose to his chest and started heading towards the gate just in time to see a scrawny-looking boy step out of the car, face buried in his phone and wandering off for a few steps at least before Crowley grabbed the back of his hoodie and stilled him for a bit while he was talking to the driver of the ludicrous-looking car. Then he tapped the roof of it twice and the limo was off, leaving Crowley and the young lad alone on the sidewalk.

Crowley picked up the rucksack that the boy had unceremoniously thrown out of the car upon stepping out and then turned his attention to him.

And then immediately snatched the phone from his hands and pocketed it.

‘Oi!’

‘Don’t you “oi” me, mister! You know how it goes. I’m the only one with “oi” privileges in this household. You’ll get it back Monday morning.’

The boy groaned and then put out the most impressive pout Aziraphale had ever seen. Adam was a mere novice and he’d have quite a lot to learn in terms of poutiness from this particular boy.

He was still pouting as Crowley ruffled his hair which was rather long even by Adam standards (and that boy avoided haircuts like the plague) and then turned back towards the schoolyard and his eyes landed on Aziraphale.

‘Angel! Come on, there’s someone I’d like you to meet.’

The boy mouthed “angel” and then threw Crowley a confused look.

‘This particular collection of too many knees and elbows held together by pure spite is Warlock. Lock, this is Aziraphale.’

The look of confusion instantly was replaced with a smirk that had no business on an eleven-year-old’s face.

Aziraphale extended a hand which the boy looked at for a moment, got an elbow in the ribs from Crowley, and then shook it.

‘I’m sure you’re a lovely young boy,’ Aziraphale offered as if Crowley’s jab had actually offended the boy even if that really didn’t seem the case.

‘Lovely my arse. You don’t have to live with him.’

_ Live with… _

Aziraphale tried some complicated mental mathematics and found himself quite at a loss in what surely constituted simple addition.

‘I’m his son,’ the boy – Warlock – provided after Aziraphale stared at him apparently for far too long.

The two of them had looked nothing alike upon first inspection, Warlock having dark hair and blue eyes and a button nose that looked nothing like Crowley’s own aquiline one.

But on second glance the similarities began to pool up. Such as the fact that Warlock was now standing with a hand placed on a hip and head cocked to the side in a stance so profoundly Crowley-esque that he might as well have patented it.

And there was something about his expression as well that screamed he was up to no good. That was probably something inherited from the Master of Mischief himself as well.

And of course the fact that, despite his poor choice of words, Crowley had been right. The boy was far too tall and far too skinny. Much like another person he knew.

Person who was now checking his phone, completely unaware of the fact that Aziraphale was having a meltdown right in front of him.

‘Did you pack your telescope?’ Crowley inquired, nose still buried in his phone and a hand resting casually on Warlock’s head, toying with a strand of hair, absentmindedly.

‘Yeah. Even if Tad says that’s a waste of time and stargazing is a girly thing to do. I told him to bugger off and then I got grounded for a week.’

‘Not a full week, eh? Seeing that you’re here now. Couldn’t pawn you off quick enough, could they? What lavish party was it this time?’

‘Who cares.’

‘Not that I don’t enjoy your delightful company.’

‘Bugger off.’

‘Ouch. I have half a mind to ground you for the rest of the week. But seriously, if he ever tells you that again, direct him my way. I might have a friendly word or two with the man.’

Aziraphale was watching the whole exchange with an expression that probably would have earned him the “Gaping fish of the year” award.

There were so many things to unpack that he might as well have hired a moving company.

‘Who is Tad?’ was the first thing that escaped his lips, though.

‘Just some American knob,’ the boy – Warlock – provided.

‘Oi! We talked about this. Harry wants you to call him dad,’ Crowley turned towards him and gave him a Look™. ‘And only I get to call him a knob. Didn’t the “buggering” comment get you into a sea of trouble already, hmm?’

‘Do I call  _ you _ dad?’

‘Nah, but that’s just because you’re a little shit.’

‘Do you call all children little shits?’ Aziraphale asked in all honesty.

‘Just the interesting ones.’

But something else caught his attention.  _ Well _ , quite a lot of things did but one in particular.

‘Harry?’

He had heard Crowley mentioning “Harry” several times in the last couple of months. And apparently they had a child together. Well, that, at least, was new information. He couldn’t help himself but ask.

‘Harry? Come on, I mentioned her plenty, angel.’

‘Harriet,’ Warlock supplied. ‘My mum?’

_ Ah. Right. _

He tried to throw the both of them a smile but it was a poor shadow of the one he had just moments before the whole interaction started.

The hand gripping the rose to his chest tightened around it until his knuckles turned white. He could feel at least four different thorns digging into the meat of his fingers but he found that he didn’t much care.

So the gossip around the schoolyard was just that. Just gossip.

Crowley was a straight man who had an ex-wife and a son. And he was just a delusional lonely old man with a crush.

‘Ah. Right,’ he felt the need to repeat out loud.

‘ 'Kay, so I managed to book us rooms for the extra day. Snagged the last one too. I’m actually surprised there were any left what with the meteor shower,’ Crowley talked animatedly as he pocketed his phone and lifted his gaze finally.

‘What’s the matter, angel? Looks like you just swallowed an onion.’

‘Nothing, my dear. I am absolutely tip top. Just… tickety-boo.’

Crowley lifted an eyebrow at him trying to convey the sentiment of “yeah, right” by eyebrow placement alone. He succeeded too. His eyebrows were very expressive like that.

He didn’t feel the need to state out loud that Aziraphale didn’t look very tickety-boo at all or that he was probably the only person on earth who actually could say that while keeping a straight face.

‘Why are you so dolled-up anyway?’ he asked instead as he took in Aziraphale’s change from his usual attire. ‘Big date plans? Uuu, and a rose as well, how very romantic,’ Crowley teased and even gave him a wink.

‘Yes. Rather.’

‘You look very nice angel. He is a very lucky fella,’ Crowley added with a smile that looked a bit wistful and Aziraphale thought he might start crying.  _ And now that wasn’t very seemly, was it? _ A grown man crying in public like that.

So he needed to get out of there as soon as possible.

‘I have to go. Big plans, you know,’ he managed a weak chuckle and let his eyes wander everywhere but in Crowley’s direction. ‘It’s been a pleasure, young man,’ he added as it didn’t do to be impolite and then he went to find Adam.

_ This was going to be an excellent evening was it not? _

As excellent as all of his other lonely evenings had been along the years.

But this evening, after putting Adam to bed, was going to entail alcohol.  _ Quite extraordinary amounts of it. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am sorry for making Aziraphale sad, I truly am.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! Kudos and comments are highly appreciated, of course :D
> 
> And, since I am able to do this now - come chat with me on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/elfontheshelves) or [Tumblr](https://elfontheshelves.tumblr.com)


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